The Dee 'Verse
by mystiri1
Summary: A series of one-shots set in an alternate universe in which Dean was always a girl.
1. Playing House

**Author's note:** _The following fics are part of a series that aren't necessarily being written in order, and take place in a universe where Dean Winchester was always a girl. Although many are gen, later fics will include mentions of Dee/Castiel._

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><p><strong>Playing House<strong>

Other girls her age got dolls, plastic toys of varying description that they could 'mother' and hold tea parties with, that they could dress up and play with their hair. Dolls that they could hold and cuddle and lavish affection on. Dee Winchester got her baby brother, thrust into her arms with brusque instructions to take care of him.

She tries to remember what she's seen Mom do when Sammy cries, but it's all strangely fuzzy, considering it was there every day for her to see before but now Mom's gone. Mom is (_pinned to the ceiling, red spreading across her stomach and flames all around, her dad shoving Sammy into her arms and yelling, "Dee! Take Sam and _run_!"_) dead, and she's slowly adjusting that concept into _gone and never coming back_.

But she doesn't like to think about that, so her arms tighten around Sammy, and she holds him a little closer, placing kisses on the soft fuzz atop his head, and in her own head, Dee thinks she can almost hear a familiar voice saying, _"Shhh, Sammy, it's all right, Mommy's got you." _

One day, about six months after they leave home, she realises that she does, and it's _hers_.

Dee can't explain to her dad why she won't stop crying, long after Sammy's fallen asleep.


	2. Curse Cycle

_It's not supernatural, in any way.**  
><strong>_

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><p><strong>Curse Cycle<strong>

When she's eleven and starts unexpectedly bleeding, Dee is certain that it's a curse. This conclusion is borne out by the fact that when she tells her Dad – after some hesitation, because, well, _because _– he panics and they end up driving across three states to get to someone who can help.

Dee sits sick and scared in the back seat of the Impala, huddled with her legs drawn up, and tries to decide what's worse about the curse: the fact that she's apparently slowly bleeding to death, or the fact that she's bleeding to death from _there_, and had to tell her Dad. The thought of her impending demise should win out over humiliation, but it's a close battle, made worse by Sammy's worried looks and questions. There's no way she's explaining this to him.

When they finally reach their destination – a bar called the Roadhouse and a woman named Ellen, who gives John a look somewhere between amusement and disgust, and takes Dee aside with a sympathetic look to explain _everything_ – humiliation declares its victory once and for all. Mostly, though, Dee's mad. She's mad at her Dad for not saying anything and letting her think she was dying, she's mad at herself for not realising (because they covered this in health class the school before last; she just didn't think it would be like _this_, or that there would be _so much_ blood) but mostly, she's mad at her body, and the realisation that she's stuck with this for, well, forever. Once a month, until she gets too old (so yeah, _forever_) or pregnant (ugh, _no_) and it's going to be messy and inconvenient and even, sometimes, painful, because apparently that's the reason she's not feeling well and her stomach hurts.

She's muttering to herself about the gross unfairness of it all when they get back in the car, a paper bag with 'feminine hygiene products' clutched in one hand. She doesn't really want to think too hard about what she's supposed to do with them, and thinks that whoever first invented tampons was sick. But it's only when she starts comparing the whole situations to werewolves (moon cycles and curses and all that) that she gets a response from her dad, who has been carefully not looking at her since she told him.

He snickers.

She gives him a lethal glare, and slams the car door behind her.


	3. Looking Out

_Little or not, brothers are supposed to look out for their sisters. Dee doesn't make that easy._

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><p><strong>Looking Out<br>**

Sam knows that brothers have certain responsibilities towards their sisters. Perhaps it's a bit chauvinistic, but that doesn't make it less true. But Dee has always made fulfilling those responsibilities... problematic at best. It's not like she can't successfully kick the ass of any guy who goes too far, after all; she doesn't really need his protection.

He's not really sure why he's so convinced that it's his responsibility to look out for his sister; after all, she's been looking after him all his life. Maybe it's just turnabout - Dee's not the only one that can feel all protective. The one time his dad actually said anything on the subject, it was that men protected women for two reasons: sometimes it was because they needed protecting, and sometimes it was because men needed to protect them. But John Winchester had this curious blind spot where Dee was concerned, where he only occasionally remembered that he had a _daughter_, and then he went off the deep end.

So Sam watches her go out to bars, where she'll hustle pool and knock back the drinks with the best of them, and pick up men – sometimes just for a bit of making out, sometimes to take back to the hotel room, and there are some things you just don't want to think about your sister doing. She doesn't do relationships, so he never gets to have 'The Talk' with any prospective boyfriends (he's not sure what Dee's reaction would be if he did). He watches her face down all kinds of monsters and sticks to doing his part rather than interfering, because if he tried to get in the way there she'd rip him a new one.

And then he died, and Dee made a bargain to bring him back, and Sam's horribly aware that as a brother – even a little one – he's failed. During that year, all his protective-brother instincts are at their worst, and Dee threatens to kill him again if he doesn't tone it down. It's all to no avail; he doesn't manage to save her and when she comes back, he doesn't really trust it.

After the initial 'oh, wow, _angels_' reaction, he doesn't really trust _them_, either. They want something from them – from Dee, anyway, and Castiel is always there, looking at her in an intense way that Sam doesn't like one bit. If he's completely honest with himself, he can admit that he resents Castiel for being the one to save Dee, hates _himself_ for not being able to do something, but as far as he is concerned, when Dee succeeds in tumbling Castiel into bed it's all his worst fears come true.

And because Castiel doesn't just go away, is there the morning after, and the day after that, for the first time ever, Dee just might be in a relationship.

Sam has one consolation: Castiel's not very good at facial expressions, but his bewilderment with the whole situation seems to leak through, nonetheless.

Still, when it's been at least a week, and Dee doesn't seem to have moved on to the next guy in the next bar in the next town, Sam decides that the time has come to say something. It's true whether Dee and Castiel continue to sleep together or not, and given all the other possibilities Sam has been thinking of, a broken heart might not be all that bad – except he's never had to deal with one of those before, and why the hell did Dee have to choose _now _to get attached?

The opportunity comes when Dee is in the bathroom, doing something girl-ish that Sam wants to know nothing about and Castiel's staring at the door, that faintly bewildered look on his face again.

"Castiel," Sam says, and the angel turns to him, his features once again falling blank.

"Yes, Sam?"

That stare of his almost derails the whole conversation, but Dee turns on the tap in the bathroom, and Sam remembers. _Dee._ Brotherly responsibilities.

"If Dee wants to -" Sam pauses, screwing up his face as he tries to find a way to say it without saying it, "-get involved with you, then that's her decision. But I just want to make one thing clear: if you do anything to hurt her, or upset her even _one little bit_, then angel or not, I will find some way to _end_ you. And it will be as painful as possible."

Sam really hopes Dee didn't overhear any of that, but the tap's still running in the bathroom so he just might be safe. In the meantime, Castiel regards him with that flat, unblinking stare. They both know that Castiel is an angel, incredibly powerful and virtually unkillable, and that he's unlikely to be harmed by anything that _Sam_ could do; but at the same time, Sam's always been good at research, and he's got the market cornered on stubborn.

"Understood," Castiel says with a grave nod, and goes back to staring at the bathroom door.

**e**


End file.
